Slowly Seeing
by Kay Willow
Summary: She knew the first time that she wasn't the one Kira wants. She knows that it's not about her this time either. Kotetsu Kiyone is not the girl of his dreams, the end. Right? //onesided Kira/Hinamori, Kira/Kiyone no really//


**.above and below.**

He had never been on the 13th division grounds when they were quiet. During the day, the grounds were full of life, ringing loud with laughter and chatter and arguments. But this late at night there was hardly anyone out and about, save for a few patrolling shinigami who watched the lieutenant pass with silent, wide-eyed stares.

Izuru felt guilty, like he was committing a crime by breaking that hush, but he couldn't exactly help it. He was -- he was maybe a little drunk, not quite walking in a straight line, perhaps occasionally veering into one of Captain Ukitake's bonsai and snapping the branches, to his unending horror. It just made him feel worse about this whole trip, but if he retreated with his tail between his legs now, he'd never have the courage to do it again.

It was stupid. Maybe he _should_ turn around.

But the guard on duty at the door to the Hall of Heavenly Rains only blinked at him in confusion and stepped aside without so much as a challenge.

That was how Izuru wound up hovering outside her door and finally knocking on the wood frame.

Kiyone came to the door swearing a hazy-sounding blue streak, threatening that if this was anything less important than Captain Ukitake's quarters being on fire she would make him sorry he'd ever been born, but when she slid open the door and saw him there, the words abruptly trailed off.

"Lieutenant...?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Kiyone-san," he said, closing his eyes so he didn't have to see her pity. "Can you -- Can I stay here for the night?"

She let him in.

They weren't close, and had never been close; in all honesty, they rarely even saw one another. Seireitei was a very large place, and there were a very large number of shinigami there.

But two or three decades ago, Kiyone had gotten very tired of chastity, and he had been there, handsome and clever and just a little exotic -- around the eyes, he had such beautiful, strange eyes. So she had approached him and laid down the facts: she liked someone else, he liked someone else, and neither of them wanted to be clumsy for their respective someone elses; but unfortunately, she was a virgin, and he was a virgin. They could remedy these problems together. (So long as he swore on his life and his continued masculinity that no one would ever, ever know.) Both had been satisfied enough by the experience, and gone away to live their comfortable, familiar lives apart.

And now he was lying in her bed again, with his head pillowed on her folded legs and his hair soft under her idle fingers; Kiyone was a little mystified by it. Part of her thought that maybe someone else had let him into her bedroom in the darkest hours of the night, and she'd only watched helplessly, because she had no idea why she'd done it.

Kiyone asked, in a gentle tone that would have made Sentarou laugh at her, "What are you here for, Izuru?"

He shifted, pressing his face against her thighs as if to hide from her gaze. "I'm sorry, I know -- I know I'm intruding, I didn't mean to, I promise. I just... didn't want to go back to my room."

She was going to have to pry it out of him, but it was hard to feel annoyed about the effort when he was so obviously miserable. "Yeah, sometimes drinking makes a lonely bed unappealing," Kiyone agreed. His hair was soft against her fingers, and fine, but too long. It had flattered him more when it was shorter. "...but is that why?"

Before the words even fell from his lips, she knew what he was going to say: a desolate, "To get to my room, I-- I have to go past the infirmary."

It was her. Something eased up in Kiyone's heart, a tautness finally unraveling. Poor Izuru. "What happened to Lieutenant Hinamori isn't your fault. Don't let it upset you--"

"They didn't tell you?"

Kiyone paused. "Tell me what?"

There was silence. The cloth of her yukata was warm where his head rested, and the blankets bunched around them were warm, and the room was warm, but the silence was like ice, cutting. Kiyone wondered if she should already know whatever they were talking about.

"I can't say," Izuru said into her leg. "It's not that I don't want to. But it's a secret restricted only to the captains and lieutenants of--"

Oh, he was ridiculous. Kiyone sighed and said, "I know about _Captain Aizen_. Do you really think my sister wouldn't tell me why Lieutenant Hinamori wound up in the hospital bed next to me?"

He looked up at her, startled, but instead of looking sheepish or confessing the rest of his story, he whispered, "I didn't know you'd been hurt."

"You didn't? Captain Soifon nearly crushed my ribcage."

"She-- What?! Are you all right?"

Kiyone's lips quirked up in spite of herself. He sounded almost horrified -- it probably sounded pretty suicidal, like a third-seat throwing herself at a captain with deliberate intent to fight her. "I'm fine, Izuru. Captain Soifon only had a minute or two to go at me and Kotsubaki. My sister took care of me, I don't even have bruises left." She smoothed his hair back, and reminded him patiently, "And the point is that I know Captain Aizen has betrayed the Soul Society. That's how I know what happened to her _isn't_ your fault."

And then there was another silence, as cold as the first. This time she knew it _was_ because he didn't want to tell her; but he was drunk enough and miserable enough that Kiyone was sure it would come out if she waited patiently.

Izuru said, "I was the one who led Captain Hitsugaya and Matsumoto-san away from her. It's because I was distracting them that Captain Aizen could-- They said they wouldn't _hurt_ her!"

_Crap,_ Kiyone thought, and for a moment she despised Aizen and Ichimaru and Tousen so much that she thought she might explode. Was it really necessary to do this to Izuru, who'd already changed so much from the proud new recruit she remembered?

"You were trying to protect her, Izuru. She'll forgive you," Kiyone said, "you know she will." _You're her friend,_ she thought, but she didn't say it, because it wasn't fair to remind him that that was all he was, probably all he'd ever be.

"But how am I supposed to forgive myself? I--"

Once upon a time, she'd told him, _'You can think about her if you want, it doesn't bother me.'_

Kiyone was definitely not the person to go to for delicate emotional problems. She believed in shouting and drinking problems away. She wasn't eloquent or good with words, and she wasn't deeply compassionate.

But he hadn't come to her because he wanted those things. He'd come to her because, once, they'd spent a night together, and that awkward bond had drawn him to her the same way it had compelled her to let him in.

She shifted, tugging him up by the collar of his shihakusho, and Izuru looked confused for a moment before her lips met his, an impulsive move that she hoped was the right one. She counted the hurried heartbeats until he responded, his arms curving hesitantly around her waist and his mouth slanting against hers.

It was okay if he was thinking about Hinamori -- it was okay if this was _because_ of Hinamori. Kiyone didn't need anything from him. In the end, she was offering this out of her own free will, expecting nothing. If anything, he gave her more than she would have even asked for: she'd half thought he would be rushed, desperate, like the first time without the eagerness. Instead his hands moved gently over her skin, brushing the yukata from her waist and skimming so carefully over the yellowed skin where the last remnants of her injuries still faded, with such care that she could almost fool herself that he was thinking about _her_, about _Kiyone_, and not his unattainable girl.

Izuru fell asleep with one long arm slung over her hips in casual intimacy. It was probably supposed to feel nice, but maybe she had unusual definitions of nice. Kiyone was used to sleeping alone, not accustomed to having to share her futon with others, and definitely not accustomed to having others pressed up against her, sticky and overwarm and confining.

_If he hadn't come in here practically crying, I'd shove him right onto the floor,_ she assured herself. For this _one_ night she could let him drape himself all over her if that was what would make him feel better. But she didn't think she'd get a wink of sleep.

Somewhere between watching her fingers trail over his damp chest with fascination and Sentarou's sudden bellowing in her doorway, the entire night passed.

"_Hey, monkey-girl, what's taking you so long--_"

Kiyone squeezed her bleary eyes shut and then snatched the blanket to her chest, sitting up so fast she almost tossed Izuru aside and snapping, "What makes you think you can just march into a girl's room without asking, Kotsubaki?!"

Sentarou stood with his hand still on the door, frozen in place and slack-jawed in surprise, his gaze fixed on Izuru rather than on Kiyone. But those piggy little eyes jerked back to her quickly at her retort, and he recovered quickly, sneering, "You think you've got something I want to look at?"

"Excuse me?" said Izuru, in what might have been a challenging tone except that he was so disoriented that he sounded bewildered by the whole exchange.

Kiyone ignored him and hurled her pillow block at the giant in the doorway. It hit him square in the nose and he staggered back into the wall. "Shut the door, you ape!"

With vehement curses, Sentarou staggered back towards her room and slid the paper door home with such force that it rattled and bounced back open a little. Before his footsteps were even gone down the hall, Kiyone was climbing out of bed, gathering her yukata again and shrugging it over her shoulders.

It was already dawn outside, she could see the warm light rising. She'd overslept only a little, but it would be irresponsible to make Sentarou do all the morning work of the division, irresponsible and would probably net him some extra sympathy from Captain Ukitake -- which was never ever something she planned to allow.

"You should get up too," Kiyone said, not unkindly. Izuru had his own division to take care of, after all, and his schedule was doubtless similar to hers.

"I'm sorry," Izuru murmured, pulling himself upright and wincing. She could tell he was suffering from a hangover already, and reminded herself to yell at Rangiku for letting such an obviously inexperienced drinker get into that sort of state. "Because of me, your co-worker said some harsh things--"

"You don't know him very well," Kiyone muttered, belting her yukata closed in front. That was just a typical morning exchange with Sentarou; a more knowledgeable observer would actually have recognized that he was being extremely reserved to _not_ have shouted a comment about her choice of late-night activities at the top of his lungs. (The ugly son of a bitch was a good friend sometimes. She owed him.)

Izuru pulled on his white cotton robe, not looking at her. "I'm still sorry," he said softly.

She paused, watching him get dressed, and then smiled faintly. "Wanna know a secret?" she said, winking. "Don't flash step on your way to the 3rd division grounds, and don't drink tea. Juice will help, though."

It seemed to work; he glanced up at her and managed to smile back, some tautness easing from his shoulders. "I appreciate your expert advice," Izuru told her, and held up his hands in self-defense when she scowled at him.

There -- Kiyone thought some of the awkwardness had been defused, so maybe he wouldn't feel the need to make this into something uncomfortable now. She needed a bath desperately before she went to supervise the morning practice, and definitely before she went to see Captain Ukitake.

Izuru said lightly, "I assume you want to go by the same rules as last time?"

It was a moment before Kiyone remembered the way she had threatened his life, limb, and future children if he told anyone about their evening together. She almost grinned. "I trust you," she assured him instead, "to know when you're saying something I'd have to hurt you for."

Then they were both dressed and ready to go. For a moment he hovered in the doorway, looking back at her and not saying anything at all -- just looking at her, silent and uncertain -- before finally turning without finding the words and sliding the door shut gently behind him.

Then he avoided her for two months.

They weren't close, had never been close, rarely even saw each other; but that made it all the more obvious that he was avoiding her on those rare occasions when they should have, even if by accident. When the 3rd division and the 13th met together for sparring practice, Izuru happened to be sick that day. When Kiyone visited Isane on the 4th division grounds, she might catch a glimpse of him only for him to find some excuse to duck indoors as she passed by his offices.

It eventually became obvious even to the most stupid of observers. One morning Sentarou took a huge bite out of his breakfast biscuit and asked her blithely through the crumbs, "Heard back from your boyfriend yet?"

"That's _disgusting_, you animal," Kiyone snapped, stealing a sliver of fish off his plate. "Eat like a human being! And I don't have a _boyfriend_. I'm still living the single life," she added, louder, just in case anyone in the nearby vicinity would be repeating this conversation to Captain Ukitake later.

"Then that guy you played backgammon with all night and happened to fall asleep naked on top of," Sentarou said, leering at her. "Heard back from him yet?"

"There's nothing to hear back about. You have crumbs in your beard," she told him. "It's like looking at a yeti."

But he seemed to think he should feel sorry for her, and leveled none of the insults she would have expected -- nothing about her skill in bed or how she looked like a boy or how no one would want such a rude, inelegant woman. Instead he just said, "Better a yeti than some monkey-see-monkey-do girl," and changed the subject.

It wasn't as if she cared, or even thought about it overmuch. Kiyone was under no delusions that she was special to him, and when Lieutenant Hinamori woke from her coma and began to move about again, the only thing Kiyone thought was, _That's so wonderful! I hope she gets better soon. But with friends like Lieutenant Kira and Lieutenant Ise going to see her all the time, I'm sure she'll recover fast._ She went to visit herself, brought a notepad and ink as a gift, because she remembered Hinamori being good at drawing, and the younger girl promised to sketch her something as soon as she felt up to it.

Izuru almost ran into her on the way out of the infirmary, but he slipped into another sickroom when he saw her coming.

He really was ridiculous. Part of Kiyone wondered if Izuru had approached her, if the disaster had finally convinced him to tell Hinamori how he felt, but Kiyone knew practically that he was too much of a coward.

She still wondered what it would be like. Would Hinamori be stunned, flustered and flattered? Kiyone was pretty sure she had never dated anyone before -- too fixated on improving herself and caring for her division, like Kiyone, and maybe fixated on her captain, like Kiyone. Maybe she'd be overwhelmed with doubt and uncertainty, thinking on the betrayal she had just suffered through and reluctant to open herself to that sort of hurt again, which would be his cue to gather her up in his arms and vow to be with her forever, if he were in a storybook romance.

_I wish I could be there when... Well, if he did it,_ was Kiyone's only thought. She figured it would be more entertaining than any storybook romance, that was all.

By the second month, Kiyone had long ago decided that she was out of his life again, and he out of hers; that they were back to their comfortable, familiar lives apart.

She was indulging in a solitary practice in Captain Ukitake's terribly-maintained bonsai garden when he proved her wrong.

Izuru cleared his throat behind her without warning. Kiyone jumped nearly half a foot and came down sputtering; "What the hell, is that how you approach someone who's distracted--"

She cut herself off when she saw him, and the little fox behind her snickered and dissipated in a beat, for which she was infinitely grateful. "Lieutenant Kira-- Sorry, I didn't know it was you when I said--"

"Izuru," he invited, which told her that he was not there on business, but did not tell her what exactly he _was_ there for. "And it's okay, I promise my feelings aren't hurt."

He was actually smiling a little around the edges, as if entertained by her. Kiyone soothed her ruffled feathers. Smiling was good. Entertained was good. It meant he was feeling better. Maybe he'd come to tell her that he'd confessed to Hinamori, and she could beat the full story out of him, all the little details she'd imagined.

Kiyone returned her zanpakutou to its sheath and set it down on a low bench. "What did you want to talk about, Izuru?" she said, grinning, but she was thinking, _I'll kill you if you think I cried because you didn't call me in the morning._

"I've been thinking about a lot of things lately," Izuru said, hunching his shoulders slightly and glancing at the little stream next to her. "I've had -- a lot of time. I thought you might be interested in hearing about it."

Well, she hadn't been, but she was now; the least she could do was listen, be a good friend for him. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

"I wanted to thank you, first of all, for being so... generous, and kind, even though I haven't treated you very well." A slight flush rose in his features.

She should probably feel more flattered, but Kiyone flushed herself, glancing around uncomfortably. "Don't say that too loudly, I'll never hear the end of it," she muttered. Generous and kind -- Sentarou would laugh until he split his sides.

"Don't worry, I won't spread it around, I just wanted you to hear it." A quick smile flitted across his features, and then vanished again. "You gave me so much space, didn't -- push me at all -- and I think I really needed that, as much as the, er, comfort. It got me to thinking about what I really wanted. I realized what I'd been chasing after-- Well. It's something I'll probably never have. And there's been something much closer, that I--" Izuru hesitated a beat, then soldiered ahead quickly, "I can't think of any way to say that without being insulting. Never mind! I know this wasn't how we planned it at the beginning, but-- Kiyone-san, would you be interested in letting me treat you to dinner sometime?"

There were a lot of things that Kiyone had been prepared to hear, but for some reason that simply hadn't occurred to her. Her heart stopped beating for a moment, and she just managed to stare at him. "W, wait," she said blankly. "What about Lieutenant Hinamori?"

Izuru shifted, taking a few steps closer to her and then stopping, shyly, a short distance away. She could smell the ink on his fingers. "I care about her," he admitted, although it sounded like an understatement to her. "But I enjoy your company, and... I feel comfortable around you. I care about _you_, I think. Isn't that enough?"

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Kiyone felt too warm, flustered, and she said, "But, I, Captain Ukitake--"

Izuru shook his head immediately, his hands coming up as if to touch her or wave reassuringly. "I'm not asking you to change for me. But if you think you could care for me -- even a little -- it might be worth it to try, right?"

_I thought you were a coward,_ Kiyone thought, flushed and flustered and now _she_ felt like a coward, as if she'd been running from this somehow and she didn't even know why or where that feeling had come from. Izuru had edged up behind her and caught her by surprise while she was distracted with other things, and it felt like this guilt and this uncertainty had done the same, ambushed her when her back was turned.

"I guess. I guess dinner can't hurt," she said.

The tension eased from Izuru's shoulders, the way it had on that morning two months ago, only this time the smile that accompanied it was wide and pleased, almost shocking on his usually-drawn face.

"And I promise, no hard feelings if you change your mind, or if you want to ask Lieutenant Hinamori instead, or -- whatever!" Kiyone added quickly, just to let him know that she didn't consider them _dating_ or anything.

Izuru chuckled a little. "And I promise the same thing. Who knows, maybe Captain Ukitake is the jealous type?"

Just thinking about that made Kiyone's lips quirk up, and then she was laughing too, both of them laughing together for the first time -- ever, she realized. And it felt good, a swell of unfamiliar warmth and pleasure rising up in her chest so fast that it was almost startling.

Maybe there was something to this strange bond after all.


End file.
